the Dance

by Alison G. Bailey

  The courtyard was deserted except for one person. Hart was sitting at one of the picnic tables, soaking up the warmth of the sun and reading. The corners of my mouth curled up and all the anger and annoyance from earlier disappeared. Without consulting my brain, my legs moved me forward until I was standing next to him.

  “Whatcha reading?”

  He looked up with squinted eyes. A slow grin formed across his mouth, causing butterflies to swarm in my belly.

  “Reading Is Sexy: A Guide to Picking Up Hot Women. It’s working great so far.”

  I gave him a shy smile. “Have you had lunch yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you like chicken salad?”

  “Yep.”

  I placed the cooler on the table and unpacked it. “Today’s your lucky day.”

  Hart watched in amazement as I pulled out the food, paper plates, and utensils, setting it all in front of him.

  “What’s all this?”

  “Will wasn’t in the mood for chicken today.”

  He closed his book and put it aside. “You do know we have a fully staffed dining room, right?”

  “He doesn’t like what they serve.”

  “So you bring him food every day?”

  I nodded, then cringed remembering the promise I’d made. “Please, don’t get Mrs. Tanner in trouble. She’s been wonderful and understanding.”

  Hart gave a subtle head shake and tried to hide an eye roll, unsuccessfully. “My lips are sealed.”

  A sigh of relief drifted out of me.

  “Thank you. Well, enjoy.” I started to walk away.

  “Whoa. You can’t leave me here to eat alone.”

  I knew he was just being nice. After all, I’d laid a feast before him. But I had to admit his words made my head a little floaty. I was more excited than I probably should have been to spend more time in his company. Hart had positioned himself at the end of the table. Without protest, I sat next to him.

  I scooped three large spoonfuls of salad onto a plate and handed it to him.

  “Don’t forget the bread.” I slid the plate of already sliced bread across the table.

  “Looks like you thought of everything,” he said.

  “I didn’t bring anything to drink.”

  He raised his bottled water. “I’ll share my water.”

  My cheeks flushed thinking about my lips touching the same bottle as his touched.

  I sounded like a Hallmark movie.

  Hart plunged his fork into the salad and brought it up to his mouth. I got a little dizzy staring as he chewed and swallowed. When he stopped chewing I noticed the corners of his mouth twitching into a slight grin. I darted my eyes away but it was too late. He’d solidly caught me.

  “Bryson, this is incredible. Where’d you get it from?”

  “I made it.”

  “You’re kidding.” He sounded surprised.

  “I made the bread and the pie too.”

  “What’s in this salad?”

  “You really want to know?”

  He nodded his head, eating another forkful, appearing genuinely interested.

  “Well, chicken, of course. Red grapes, walnuts, celery, celery seed, salt, pepper, mayo, and my secret ingredient.”

  Grabbing a piece of bread, he flirted. “What’s your secret, Bryson?”

  “If I told you that it would take all the mystery out of our relationship.”

  “I think there’s enough to spare.” He tore off a small piece of bread and popped it into his mouth. “Damn, this melts in your mouth.”

  My cheeks were hurting from the smile glued to my face. I was beside myself with excitement from Hart enjoying my food so much.

  “Okay. I’ll tell you but you’re sworn to secrecy.”

  “I’ll take it to the grave.”

  I placed my forearms on the table and leaned forward. “I add two tablespoons of Durkee’s.”

  “I have no idea what language you’re speaking.” He continued to eat, alternating between the salad and bread.

  Chuckling, I said, “Durkee’s famous sauce.”

  Hart shrugged his shoulders, still having no clue what I was referring to.

  “It’s a mustardy, vinegary, mayonnaise-based concoction.”

  “Why didn’t you say that in the first place? I’m a simple man. You gotta use simple words.”

  “I’ll remember that the next time we eat together.”

  “So, there’s going to be a next time? Man, that book really does work.”

  My entire body heated and blushed. This was the happiest I’d felt in a long time and all it took were a few kind words from the right person.

  “What restaurant are you the head chef at?” He lifted another forkful to his mouth.

  My eyebrows furrowed. “In my kitchen at home.”

  “You mean this isn’t your career?”

  I simply shook my head in response.

  “You’re kidding.” He swirled the last piece of bread around his plate collecting every little salad remnant. “Damn, woman, it should be.”

  Beaming, I dished out the biggest piece of pecan pie and slid it toward him. “You think so?”

  “Absolutely.” He twisted the top off of his bottled water and took a swig. “Where did you go to culinary school?”

  “Nowhere.” My gaze dropped. For some reason I felt embarrassed to admit that fact.

  “So, this is all natural talent.”

  The biggest smile split across my face.

  “At one point, I thought about going to culinary school. Maybe opening up my own catering business. But, you know, other priorities come into play and force you to choose. It was a silly idea anyway.”

  Hart put his fork down and held my gaze. “Your heart’s passion is never silly. If you follow it, it will steer you in the right direction.”

  My throat tightened with the hint of a sob.

  Hart was oblivious to the impact his words had on me. He was only the second person I’d shared my dream with, of running my own catering business. But he was the first person to encourage me to reach for it. He was a nice guy being nice. I needed to remind myself to take it at face value and not read anything more into it. As I stared into his smoky eyes, it was becoming clear to me that I craved our time together no matter how brief. I wanted him in my life in some capacity for as long as possible.

  My body vibrated with anticipation as he brought the golden-pie-filled fork to his mouth. His expression relaxed into pure pleasure. I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up and out of me. As he devoured the rest of the pie, fully enjoying each mouthful, tears played at the back of my eyes.

  Oh my god! What is wrong with me? I cannot let him see me cry. He’ll think I’m a nut case.

  I looked away, blinking back the tears as I kept busy packing up what was left of lunch.

  The touch of a warm hand on my forearm stilled me. “Hey, you okay?”

  I looked down at Hart’s skin touching mine before my gaze bounced up to his.

  Pursing my lips, I nodded. “Must be allergies.”

  The second he removed his hand, a twinge of emptiness hit me.

  “Thank you for lunch. It was amazing.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “It was the second best thing that happened to me today.” He winked.

  I wasn’t sure if he was implying the first best thing was spending time with me. I wasn’t going to ask for clarification. So I smiled, kept my big mouth shut, and finished packing the cooler.

  “We could do it again sometime if you’d like,” I said.

  “I’d like that.”

  A rush of adrenaline zipped through my body.

  “Great. Let me know some of your favorite foods and I’ll work around them.” My insides cringed with how eager I sounded.

  “Oh no. Next time it’s my treat.”

  “You cook?”

  “Um . . . no. But I order a mean pizza.” We exchanged smiles. “That is if you think it won’t cau
se trouble between you and Will. Is he okay with you sharing your talents with an old friend?”

  “Will and I are married.” The words catapulted from my mouth.

  My eyes doubled in size as I stared at Hart with my mouth hanging wide open.

  “Oh god. I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I didn’t mean to blurt it out that way. I just felt I needed to . . .”

  Hart reached over and grabbed my hand putting a halt to my rambling.

  “It’s okay. I knew already.”

  My features scrunched up in confusion.

  “I have access to patients’ records.”

  I couldn’t deny the goosebumps popping up along my arms knowing Hart had checked on my availability. Maybe he was enjoying our time together as much as I was.

  “So, you did a little snooping?” My tone was a lot flirtier than I intended.

  His gaze dropped. “I review every patient’s chart on admission and periodically throughout their stay. The married box was marked and you’re listed as Will’s emergency contact.”

  My stomach dropped with disappointment and embarrassment. Hart must think I’m some desperate housewife looking to cheat on her poor incapacitated husband. I needed to make a quick exit before I made an even bigger fool of myself. I grabbed the cooler and was about to stand when Hart’s fingers circled around my wrist.

  “Bryson, what just happened that has you bolting out of here?”

  Without going into a lot of detail, I wanted Hart to know that Will and I weren’t as we appeared.

  I took in a deep breath and lowered myself onto the seat. I noticed Hart didn’t let go of my wrist. “Will and I . . . it’s complicated.” I hesitated. Other than Sophie, no one knew Will and I had argued the morning of the car wreck. “I asked Will for a divorce the same day as the accident. While he was in the hospital, he asked me to stay with him during his recovery.”

  Hart removed his hand from my arm and nodded. “I think I understand.”

  “But that shouldn’t stop two old friends from sharing a meal on occasion. At least I hope it doesn’t.”

  I focused on the red cooler in front of me, not wanting to see Hart’s reaction. My stomach twisted in knots. I knew that this was probably the last moment we would share. Even though we were becoming just friends, there was no way he’d want to invite the drama of a divorcing couple into his life. And I couldn’t blame him.

  After what felt like an hour of silence, Hart said, “What do you like on your pizza?”

  Whipping my head in his direction, our gaze locked for . . .

  One Mississippi.

  Two Mississippi.

  Three Mississippi.

  My phone buzzed with a text, startling me. I kept my eyes on Hart as I pulled my phone from my purse, looking away at the last possible minute.

  Will: Where the hell are you? I’m starving.

  Shit! I forgot about his hamburger.

  Me: Traffic. Be there shortly.

  “Sorry. I better go.” I grabbed the cooler and my purse.

  Hart nodded in understanding.

  “Catch you later.” He threw me a wink and a grin.

  I took a few steps backward. “Black olives, extra cheese, and spicy Italian sausage.”

  We exchanged one last smile before I turned and headed to my car.

  “What’s the deal with you?” Will said, pulling the T-shirt over his head.

  I was putting away some of his clothes I had taken home earlier to wash. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re all dressed up.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

  It was the end of September and even though the calendar claimed autumn had begun the thermostats all over Charleston begged to differ. The heat waned a bit as the sun went down but the rising temperature during the day leaned more toward feeling like summer. I was anxious for the season to transition from the stifling humidity to the crispness of fall. It was by far my favorite season. When I got up this morning and felt the cool snap in the air, I immediately rummaged through my fall wardrobe. I knew in all likelihood I’d probably be burning up later but I didn’t care.

  Mom had invited me to lunch at 82 Queen, nestled in downtown’s historic French Quarter. The restaurant was upscale casual and one of the oldest and best in Charleston. Yoga pants and a T-shirt wouldn’t do.

  I squatted down to put some T-shirts in the bottom drawer. “I had lunch with mom today. It’s just jeans and a sweater, Will. Nothing special.”

  “Like hell it isn’t. Your ass looks mouthwatering in those jeans.”

  I paired my dark jeans with a beige cashmere sweater and over-the-knee boots. My hair was down and my makeup simple. I wasn’t a big jewelry person but I had a few pieces that meant a lot to me. The long gold leaf pendant necklace that hung around my neck had been last year’s birthday present from my parents, as well as the gold hoop earrings.

  The click-clack of crutches came up behind me as I continued to put away the clothes. Hot breath brushed the back of my neck. A steady quiver permeated my insides. I blew out a series of short breaths, trying to stay calm as his nearness closed in around me. Without warning a gasp pushed from my lungs when his hand cupped the denim covering my ass.

  “The black boots are a nice touch.” His voice was low and husky.

  I abruptly straightened and stepped to the side. “Will, stop it!”

  “What?! You come in looking all hot and don’t expect me to react?” He moved toward me.

  Raising my hand, I stopped him in his tracks. “Nothing has changed between us. You understand that, right?”

  Will’s broad shoulders slumped forward as he walked back over to the bed and sat. “Why are you so quick to give up on us?”

  My hands automatically curled into fists. “Give up on us?”

  “I know we have some problems but things could be worse. I mean, I never hit you, Bryson.”

  “So, as long as there’s no blunt trauma everything else should be acceptable?”

  “All I’m saying is life with me isn’t exactly horrible.”

  “What about all the lies?”

  Placing his crutches to the side, he raised his dark brown eyes filled with all the sorrow he could muster. “I never intentionally lied to you.”

  I stood shocked in place. But it wasn’t Will’s blatant denial of any wrongdoing that surprised me. It was my reaction. The twinge of anger I felt just a few seconds ago had dissipated and was replaced by apathy. Over the last twelve months I’d obsessed over each aspect of my marriage.

  At the beginning, I sobbed every hour on the hour. My stomach twisted in a constant state of knots. I was consumed by schizophrenic emotions. One minute convulsing in pain and the next screaming in intense anger. Not too long ago I teared up while talking with Sophie about moving on from my marriage.

  But as I listened to Will watering down our problems and his part in them, I didn’t feel angry, or hurt, or the threat of tears. I felt removed. Indifference had settled in my heart and I knew we were over.

  I decided to ignore his manipulative attempt. There was no point rehashing our years together.

  “Is there anything you need me to get before I head out?”

  He narrowed his eyes and huffed. “You’ve not been here for most of the day and you’re leaving already?”

  I arrived at the rehab early this morning with breakfast in hand as usual. Since Mom and I were going to lunch, I took the rest of the afternoon off from my babysitting job. To avoid an argument earlier, I promised Will I’d come back before the day was over.

  “It’s past nine and I’m tired.”

  Will slapped his crutches to the floor and pushed himself farther up the bed. “Fine.”

  Without commenting, I walked over, picked up his crutches, and leaned them against the wall next to the bed. As I moved to grab my purse, Will reached for my arm.

  “Bryson, wait.” His voice had softened but his expression was tight. “I thought you wore those jeans
for me.”

  I faced him. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  Looking into his eyes I couldn’t tell if Will was completely delusional or playing me. I knew the last thing he wanted to do was admit to his parents that he wasn’t the perfect son they always dubbed him to be. He would suffer a slight chink in his armor but the embarrassment of our failed marriage would eventually subside. And I was sure his parents would once again raise him up to heights only mere mortals dreamed of achieving.

  “We’re done. You never loved me and I don’t love you.”

  I held his gaze for several seconds, hoping he’d realize the seriousness of my conviction before I turned and walked away. Just as I was about to cross over the threshold it dawned on me. Will wasn’t scared to tell his parents about the divorce. He was terrified of me telling them the reasons for it.

  I made my way down the quiet hallway, very aware of my accelerated pace as I neared Hart’s office. I didn’t know the reason for my speed. It was Saturday and Hart didn’t work on the weekends. At least I hadn’t seen him around the three weekends I’d been here. Plus, it was way past his normal hours.

  I was three doors away when I noticed the light on in the office. My pulse pushed against each pressure point of my body. The prickle of excitement skidded across my skin. I slowed my pace as I approached the open door, hoping Hart would look up at the very second I became visible. As I passed the door the sound that flew out of the office wasn’t the deep raspy voice I craved. Instead, the high pitch of a drawn-out whistle pierced my ears.

  I was shocked and thrilled at the same time. Hart was definitely not shy when it came to playful flirting. But he’d never been so openly bold.

  I liked it.

  After the tense moment with Will I was ready for a little fun. I furrowed my eyebrows and set my lips in a straight line, pretending to be offended. Slapping my hand on the doorframe, I leaned back and poked my head inside the office. All the blood gushed from my body as four pairs of eyes zeroed in on me.